The Red Carpet Treatment
by isadorathegreat
Summary: HIATUS A mysterious letter, a damsel in distress, a cheeky doppelganger, and an innocent keychain … what exactly do all these things have in common? Why, the Annual Tokyo Policemen's Charity Ball, of course!
1. First Quarter: The Letter

**Summary: **A mysterious letter, a damsel in distress, a cheeky doppelganger, and an innocent keychain … what exactly do all these things have in common? Why, the Annual Tokyo Policemen's Charity Ball, of course!

**Timeline/Spoilers:** This story is set anytime during the _Detective Conan _and the _Magic Kaito_ series. It is suitable for readers who are familiar with the characters of both series.

**Disclaimer:** Gosho Aoyama owns _Detective Conan_, _Magic Kaito_, and any related characters. I only own this plotline.

**Author****'****s Notes:** This is likely the second-most clichéd story I will ever write (the first would be _In the Nick of Time_, if I ever get around to finishing it). In celebration of my champagne birthday today, I'm posting this up for all of you. Special thanks to my awesome new beta reader Elaienar for making sure I don't sound stupid.

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"_If you haven't found something strange during the day, it hasn't been much of a day."_

-- John A. Wheeler

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**The Red Carpet Treatment**

_**A Detective Conan / Magic Kaito fanfic by isadorathegreat**_

**First Quarter: The Letter**

For Hattori Heiji, it started during breakfast.

He was mechanically stuffing himself with food, mind numb from the lack of sleep.

It had been a _long_ night.

He had come home late because of a homicide that occurred on his train. Heiji _knew_ he hadn't had quite so many cases _before_ he met Kudou, and had a pet theory that the pseudo-boy's dead body curse was contagious to other detectives. Regardless, he had revealed the murderer, caught a ride in a police car, and stayed up even later to study for the evil, evil math test the next day. And _now_ he'd had to wake up early to get to kendo practice.

Life was so unfair.

Except for the shadows under Heiji's eyes and his silence, the scene in the Hattoris' kitchen was quite normal. The windows were thrown wide open to let in the morning breeze and the newspaper was placed on the table, ready to be read. His father was, as usual, already gone, but his mother was there, sorting through the mail. Even the slight crease in her forehead as she read through another bill was nothing strange.

That's why Heiji noticed right away when his mother stopped to look at a specific piece of mail, her face puzzled.

"What is it?" he asked, looking up from his bowl of miso soup.

"I think it's for you," she said mildly, placing the letter in front of him.

He picked it up, intrigued. Heiji didn't normally get mail. Most of what they got was addressed to his father, typically as bills, letters from friends and associates, and the occasional official-looking envelope with 'URGENT' stamped on the front.

This envelope, however, was of the white, non-descript, office quality kind. His name and address was neatly printed in hiragana on the front, and the handwriting looked maddeningly familiar, but Heiji was unable to place it with anyone in his memory. The postmark partially overlapping the stamp showed it had been mailed two days ago. Heiji flipped it over and saw there was no name or return address on the back.

It made him uneasy, but at least it wasn't big enough to be a letter bomb. The slim envelope had some weight, but no more than that of a small sheaf of papers.

As Heiji sat and scrutinized the letter, trying to think of anyone who might have sent it to him, Hattori Shizuka reminded him that he was going to be late for practice. He glanced up at the clock and realized it was time to put the mysterious letter aside. He slipped the envelope into his school bag, said goodbye, and promptly forgot all about it until later that day, when it fell out.

"What's that?" asked Kazuha. The lunch period had just begun and Heiji was stuffing his notes and books into his bag. He looked down to see the letter lying innocently on the floor.

"Mine," he said briefly. He stooped down to pick it up. "Got it this morning while I was eating. I have no idea who it's from." Heiji tucked it into his back pocket, picked up his bento, and left the classroom with Kazuha trailing behind him.

"So, why didn't you open it?" she probed.

"I was going to be late, so I didn't have time. Besides, I want to eat first. I'm starving!" he finished, unnecessarily.

Together, they got around the students crowding the hallways and out a side door.

The school grounds were very appealing as a lunch spot at the time. It was one of the warmer spring days, with the occasional cloud drifting through a soft blue sky. The grass was lush with new growth and the young leaves on the trees and bushes provided shade if needed. Dandelions bloomed sparsely across the expanse of green, multiplying as they reached a creek bordering the edge of the grounds.

They claimed a spot under an old maple tree and unpacked the homemade bentos they brought to school. Neither of them liked to battle the lines at the cafeteria, preferring to pack their own lunches and avoid the hassle.

Heiji only had time that day to hastily make some plain onigiri, but Kazuha had leftovers of some delicious-looking unagi. Darting out with his chopsticks, he stole a piece and popped it into his mouth before she realized what was happening. Heiji playfully warded off any advances Kazuha made toward his own bento as retaliation, and ate the rest of his meagre lunch.

It was only when they both wrapped up their empty bentos that his thoughts returned to the letter. Heiji took it out and eyed it warily. After a moment of hesitation and Kazuha's prodding, he ripped open the seal and removed its contents.

He stared. "What the …"

Kazuha immediately leaned over, trying to get a better look at the papers in his hand. "What? What is it?"

" … 'You are cordially invited to the Annual Tokyo Policemen's Charity Ball, held in Tokyo's Imperial Hotel on Sunday, May 18th, 2008, beginning at 7 p.m. The proceeds will be distributed among local charities, including - '"

"Are you serious?" Kazuha snatched the invitations from him. "And there're two! Heiji, you _have_ to let me come with you! Ran-chan managed to get an invitation and she told me that they always go all out! Please?"

Heiji didn't pay any attention to her pleading.

If Nee-chan had an invitation, it was likely that her father and Kudou had one as well. They lived in the same house, after all. He knew Mouri Kogoro was a former police detective - which was probably how they got the invitations in the first place - but there really was no reason for anyone to send _him_ an invitation, let alone _two_.

Sure, he was a famous high-school detective and his dad was a chief police commissioner, but they both lived in Osaka, for crying out loud!

It also bothered him that these types of invitations were notoriously hard to get unless one had connections or money, which meant the unknown sender had one or both. This person also hadn't written his - or her - name, which meant he - or she - wanted to _stay_ unknown.

And he knew he had seen that handwriting somewhere, but he couldn't remember at all, which was disturbing in itself. Normally, Heiji had a very good memory, _especially_ for things such as different kinds of handwriting.

While he brooded, Heiji almost missed Kazuha separating a third paper from the ones in her hand.

"What's this - Ah! Stop stealing things from me!" she yelled. Heiji ignored her again as he scanned the new paper. His stomach suddenly became very heavy as he read:

_Tantei-han,_

_I hope you and your lady friend will join me at the ball. I__'__m sure we__'__ll have a lovely time._

Heiji's eyes narrowed. The note was unsigned and in the same writing as the address on the envelope, and though at first glance it seemed useless, Heiji found a very revealing bit of information.

Whoever this guy was, he knew about Kazuha.

"Heiji? Are you alright?" Heiji's eyes snapped up and he met Kazuha's questioning gaze with suppressed agitation. Silently, he handed he the note and watched her eyebrows go up.

"Well, it _is_ strange, but I don't see what you're worried about. If someone wants us to go to the ball, we should go," she said, flippantly.

Heiji gaped at her.

" … Kazuha, do you have any idea what could happen to us if this guy turns out to be total nutcase?"

"Oh, Heiji," she began, strands of age-old wisdom seeming to weave into the tapestry of her voice. "You're paranoid. You're acting as if a stranger sending us invitations to someplace fancy means that he - or she - is going to try and kill us or something."

"Ahou, that's because people who do that usually _are_," he retorted.

"Honestly, what's going to happen? There're always celebrities at these sorts of events, so there's probably going to be loads of security. Not to mention it's a _policemen__'__s_ ball. At least half the guests are going to be police officers. There's no way anyone can pull anything off under so many noses," Kazuha stated, logically.

The heavy feeling lifted. She had a point.

" … Okay," agreed Heiji. "We'll go - but!" he continued as he saw Kazuha's eyes light up. "If anything weird or dangerous happens, I want you out of there, okay? I'm not taking any chances. With my luck, you'll probably get in my way if I end up trying to catch this guy."

"Ahou," she spat back. Then her mood did a one-eighty, something Heiji still wasn't quite used to, even after all these years. Her expression turned to one of joyous contemplation. "I can't wait to call Ran-chan! She'll be so excited!"

And that was how, two days later, Hattori Heiji found himself in front of an enormous hotel in the heart of Tokyo.

The entrance was just as sleek and impressive as the Imperial Hotel in Osaka and Heiji stubbornly thought _his_ city's was better. The gold-tinted stone pillars and archways were lit by lights installed in the overhang above the front doors. Set above the doors, which were the automatic kind that slid apart smoothly as you got close, were large, metal English letters which spelled out the words 'IMPERIAL HOTEL'. Several limousines were lined up in the parkway at the front of the hotel and crowds of reporters, paparazzi, television crews, spectators, security guards, and well-dressed guests milled about.

Feeling slightly shabby, Heiji turned around to pay the cab driver his fare while Kazuha climbed out of the back of the taxi. She had skipped school on Saturday to shop for a new dress, and even he had to admit that Kazuha looked good in the little green number, with the skirt flaring out just above her knees and a sash wrapped tightly around her waist. She tapped a matching high-heeled shoe impatiently as Heiji scouted the area for anyone suspicious.

"_Nothing__'__s going to happen_," she ground out. "Let's _go_, already."

When Toyoma Kazuha adopted that tone of voice, even Heiji knew better than to disobey. He let Kazuha drag him forward through the throng of people, their progress halted only once, when a burly-looking doorman in black and white asked what their business was. After flashing him their invitations, they were allowed in.

The Imperial Hotel's lobby was even more luxurious than its entrance. More gold-tinted pillars were evenly spaced out in the hall. A wooden stand with large bouquet of white flowers was situated in front of the grand, red-carpeted staircase. The front desk was placed on the right side of the staircase, and was manned by two prim-looking, middle-aged men. The room was large and furnished here and there with chairs, couches, more flowers, and the occasional hotel luggage cart. Every hard surface seemed to glisten in the light.

Here, more employees in white-and-black uniforms walked about and mingled with the guests as they went about their work. Kazuha stopped one and asked where the ball was being held.

"The Peacock Room," the woman told them, brushing her dark hair away from her face. She pointed to a set of doors to the far left of the lobby, where a line of people had gathered. "It's the only ballroom we have that can hold that many people."

Kazuha thanked her and they went on. They waited a good ten minutes before they got to the half-opened doors. Through the gap, they caught a glimpse of chandeliers, tables of hors d'oeuvres, statues made of ice, even more flowers, glittering outfits, sparkling glasses, cloth covered tables and chairs, and more uniforms. The sound of live jazz music and conversation trickled through and the smell of good food wafted under their noses.

On either side of the doorway was a uniformed man who checked the authenticity of the invitations. The one in front of Kazuha and Heiji wasn't much older than them and Heiji wondered how he had ended up working in such a prestigious hotel.

"Okay, you're all set. Enjoy yourselves!" He grinned at them in a way Heiji found slightly disturbing, but Kazuha paid it no mind and walked in. Heiji stopped and glanced back at the man, who was already checking over the next invitation, until Kazuha grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

"Honestly, Heiji! You're like a little kid!" she huffed.

'_Speaking of little kids__…_,' he thought. Heiji remembered that Kudou should be here too. He talked to him on the phone and confirmed that Kudou had received an invitation as well. Heiji also told him about the circumstances surrounding _his_ invitations.

His eyes searched the room until he spotted the back of a tiny blue jacket in front of one of the hors d'oeuvres tables. His smirk probably looked quite predatory as he noticed that the little boy was completely engrossed in the treats he was eating.

Heiji snuck away from Kazuha and slowly - cautiously - quietly crept up behind the boy, not letting his presence be known until his hand dropped heavily onto that small shoulder.

Edogawa Conan, formerly known as Kudou Shin'ichi, broke away from his grip and spun around with such a look of panic on his face that Heiji started laughing.

"Hattori! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he hissed, clearly not finding the situation as funny as Heiji did.

"I'm sorry, it's just … I never thought anyone but Nee-chan could ruffle your feathers like that, Kudou!" With that, he burst into a fresh round of snickers as the former high-school student flushed.

"I told you not to call me that," Kudou reminded him. "More importantly, what are you _wearing_?"

Heiji glanced down at his worn running shoes, blue jeans, black t-shirt, and sports jacket. His usual outfit was never complete without his signature White Sox baseball cap tucking all but a few strands of his dark hair away. It looked especially strange among the glossy suits and shimmering dresses of the other guests.

"The invitation _did_ say 'Black Tie Optional' and there's no way I'm running around in a monkey suit if there's a potential psycho here," Heiji drawled, waving the invitation in the would-be teen's face.

Kudou snatched from his hands. "I don't think they meant _that_ optional," he grumbled.

Heiji shrugged.

"For god's sake, Heiji!"

Both detectives turned to see Kazuha barrelling towards them. Heiji groaned inwardly, wondering what he had done in a previous life to deserve her.

"I can't believe this! I turn around for one second and you disappear! I - Oh, hello Conan-kun! It's good to see you again." She smiled brightly down at Kudou and Heiji was once again reminded of her bipolar tendencies. "You haven't seen Ran-chan, have you?"

"Yeah!" he chirped, startling Heiji. "Ran-neechan was trying to drag Oji-san away from the bar down there!"

"I - I see," she said uncertainly. "Um, anyway … hurry up, Heiji! And keep up this time!"

Kazuha quickly disappeared into the crowd and the two boys followed at a more sedate pace.

"You know, it's kind of creepy how you do that. It's like you've got a split personality or something," Heiji commented, trying to keep a straight face.

Kudou shrugged. "Probably my mom's genes finally showing through. Can't say it hasn't been helpful."

Heiji nodded thoughtfully. It did make sense. Kudou took more after his father than his mother, so something of the former actress was bound to show up in him eventually. It would also explain why Kudou liked to make such a big production when he was laying out his solution to a case.

Of course, Heiji wasn't really one to talk, but he blamed it all on his mother too.

The pair spotted the little group of Kazuha, Suzuki Sonoko, Mouri Ran, and her father, Mouri Kogoro, by the well-stocked bar in the corner of the ballroom. There was also another man there, just as drunk as the Sleeping Kogoro and twice as loud. Heiji recognized him as Inspector Nakamori Ginzo, the guy who had chased after Kaitou Kid for more than two decades, and yet had only accomplished the ability to swear at the thief in new, more creative ways.

The next few hours passed in a blur. He and Kudou spent time looking out for any trouble that might occur, both equally aware of the strange way in which Heiji got his invitations. They also listened to Nakamori's recounting of various Kaitou Kid capers (for some reason, the inspector had decided to forego the traditional 'heist' label that night). He had even included some that had never made it to the papers.

As always, Nee-chan was upset over her father's drunkenness, so Heiji had asked her for a few dances. It had the double benefit of cheering her up and making Kudou jealous.

Seriously, the guy was just too easy to tease.

Heiji even had a dance with Kazuha, although it was rather awkward and had so much toe-stepping (really, when did Kazuha's feet get so big?) that it just ended up in a fight where they kept calling each other 'ahou'.

He and Kudou were on another patrol through the ballroom when Heiji spotted something very weird.

"Hey, isn't that Nee-chan?" he asked, pointing to a swaying couple in the middle of the dance floor. Kudou slowed down and turned to get a look.

At first glance, the girl did look remarkably like Nee-chan, but Heiji knew that they had only left her behind a few minutes ago with their group. And she certainly wasn't wearing a blue dress then, just a strapless red one that had probably caused Kudou's nose to bleed the first time he saw the short hem. This girl's hair was a little shorter and noticeably messier than Nee-chan's, and she didn't seem quite as tall, though he couldn't be sure at that distance.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kudou slowly shaking his head.

"No, that's not Ran. Actually, I think that's Inspector Nakamori's daughter, Nakamori Aoko."

"Huh?" Heiji had a hard time matching the girl's cherubic features with the inspector's gruff exterior. He whistled. "Well, she didn't get her looks from her dad, _that__'__s_ for sure. You met her before?"

"No, but, before you got here, the inspector let it slip that Ran was the spitting image of her. I wasn't sure how accurate the description was, considering he was already drunk at the time. I guess I got my answer," Kudou chuckled.

As they watched, the two dance partners twisted around, and Heiji and Kudou got a good look at Nakamori Aoko's dance partner.

Both of them turned white.

"There's no way …," Heiji breathed, eyes darting to his friend and back to the boy dancing with Nakamori Aoko.

Kudou was struck dumb. Heiji didn't blame him. What they were seeing wasn't possible. Dancing with the inspector's daughter was … was …

"Shin'ichi?"

The two detectives stiffened. With identical, mute horror, they turned to see the shocked face of Mouri Ran.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Last Penny: OMAKE

**Timeline/Spoilers: **THIS "OMAKE" SPOILS EVERYTHING IN THIS FANFIC IF YOU'RE SMART ENOUGH TO PUT THE PIECES TOGETHER. Look at the author's notes to know why.

**Disclaimer: **Gosho Aoyama owns _Detective Conan_, _Magic Kaito_, and any related characters. I only own this plotline.

**Author****'****s Notes:** I'm a jerk.

No, I don't care what anyone says. I'm a complete jerk for making everyone (and, yes, this includes you too, Elaienar, if you're reading this) wait so long for a new chapter. The fact is that I'm a procrastinator and a perfectionist, a combination that is common but so very deadly. Even now, I'm giving myself another few weeks to re-read the ENTIRE Detective Conan and Magic Kaito series and watch all the movies/OVAs, just so I know I can write this fanfic well. I just ... I feel so guilty for not updating for almost a year. So, I've given any readers I have an awkwardly wrapped present as my apology.

The snippets below are the first incarnations of _The Red Carpet Treatment_, covering a little over half the proposed plot. While the "official" story has gone in a different direction, most of the basic information (and a few good lines) haven't changed. Please keep in my mind that I find a lot of this writing out of character or at odds with my chosen style for this fic, it has not been edited by me or by my lovely beta, and this is really just something for all of you to laugh over while I get the real thing written. I'm planning on deleting this when I've completed the second chapter, because there are so many spoilers here, it's not even funny.

... Okay, maybe a little funny. And, _yes_, that is a cliffhanger at the end. XD

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**The Red Carpet Treatment**

**_A Detective Conan / Magic Kaito fanfic by isadorathegreat_**

**Last Penny: OMAKE**

"So, I got Hiwatari-kun to help me bust the door open. He's a good kid, even if he's a little enthusiastic about catching that bastard thief."

"And what happened when you got on the roof? Oh, here, let me top off your drink."

"Ah, thank you! Well, I saw him standing on the ledge. It was a full moon, you know - he always likes things dramatic - so I could see the Nile's Teardrops in his hands, but -" The inspector broke off into a growl of frustration.

"What? What was he doing?"

"_He was juggling the Nile__'__s Teardrops!_"

Kogoro let out a properly scandalized gasp. "No!"

"Yes! And when he saw me, he said something like -" Here, he adopted a mocking, high tone. "_'__It__'__s not what I__'__m looking for.__'_" His voice returned to its normal gruffness._"_And then he threw them at me!"

"But - but they're the two biggest sapphires in _Africa_!" Kogoro looked absolutely flabbergasted. Conan couldn't help sympathizing. He knew the so-called gentleman thief was careless sometimes, but _this _…

"I know! That guy jumped off the roof while I was catching the jewels. When I looked up, he was already flying away on that damned hang glider." Inspector Nakamori leaned back in his chair and took a deep gulp from the cup in his hand.

Conan felt the cold glare of doom behind him. He turned and saw an absolutely infuriated Ran heading in his direction. Immediately, he did the most sensible thing.

He dove under a table.

While it had been interesting to watch Occhan and Inspector Nakamori get drunk together, Conan was not willing to die for it.

When she reached her father's seat, Ran immediately started in on her father.

"Otou-san! Where have you been?!" she yelled. Kogoro tried to hide his champagne, but Ran saw it and took it from him. She examined the glass for a moment before her sharp eyes landed on her father's sweating face.

"Have you been drinking?" Ran's voice was ominously low and her expression left no room for mercy should his answer be wrong.

"N-now, Ran-chan, let's be reasonable -"

In the privacy of Conan's mind, the sound of a buzzer echoed. The look on Ran's face darkened and he felt rather than saw the glass shatter in her hand.

'_Note to self: If I ever tell Ran about how I__'__ve been lying to her for the past year, make sure that I__'__m very far away at the time._

_Preferably Hawaii.__'_

"I can't _believe_you! We come to this party to have a good time and all you do is get drunk! And you even dragged Inspector Nakamori into …!"

As Ran continued scolding her father, Conan slipped out from underneath the table and walked until he could no longer hear her over the noise of the other guests. He detoured to the nearest ice sculpture, which was delicately perched on top of another table. This particular carving depicted a frozen swan in flight and appetizers made from various birds were arranged around it. Conan popped one of the hors d'oeuvres into his mouth and he couldn't help but smile as the taste of flaky pastry, curried chicken and dried apricots flooded his mouth.

When Kogoro had first managed to get his hands on tickets to the ball, Conan had _not_ been looking forward to it. He almost said no until he saw how excited Ran was. She almost overturned the dinner table in her hurry to hug her father. So, he had grudgingly agreed to attend the Tokyo Annual Policemen's Ball.

Although he had to go through the embarrassment of buying a new suit with Ran, the evening wasn't an absolute disaster. The food was delicious and the ballroom itself was amazing to look at. The walls were adorned with gold cloth that shimmered in the light of three enormous chandeliers hanging above them. Glazed wood stretched across the floors and, with music provided by a live band, couples found them perfect for dancing on. Chairs and tables covered in white cloth lined the edges of the room. Placed on the tables were large vases of flowers, fantastic statues made of ice, and the hors d'oeuvres Conan found himself liking so much. There were even bars at every corner of the room, serving both alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.

Still, the ball would have been much more interesting if he could have grown up and become Kudo Shinichi again. There would have been fans in higher classes of society to ask him about his cases, he could have conversed with the guests instead of having to avoid being stepped on by them, and he may have even asked Ran for a dance …

But Edogawa Conan couldn't return to being the Detective of the East by just wishing for it. And because he was Edogawa Conan, he found the ball more boring then it should have been.

At least a break in the monotony came when Inspector Nakamori stopped by their table to say hello. Kogoro had convinced the man to sit down and relax despite his protests (Occhan was frighteningly persuasive when he was drunk). After a few glasses of rum, the inspector had opened up and began talking about his encounters with the infamous thief Kaitou Kid. Conan found himself listening to the intimate - and probably confidential - details of the cases with something akin to fascination when the ignored Ran had shown up, spitting hellfire.

'_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,__'_ Conan recalled as he munched on a biscuit.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his shoulder. Conan bit back a yelp and broke away. His tense muscles only relaxed when he saw the hand belonged to someone with a lanky frame, a dark complexion, and a huge grin.

"Hattori!" Conan cried out in relief and embarrassment. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I didn't know anyone but Nee-chan could ruffle your feathers like that, Kudo," snickered Hattori.

Conan reddened a little but steadfastly ignored the stab.

"I told you not to call me that," he reminded the Osaka detective. "More importantly, what are _you_ doing here and what are you _wearing_?"

Hattori Heiji leaned back and Conan could see clearly that he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a black shirt, a sports jacket, and his ever present baseball cap, which tucked all but a few locks of his dark hair away. It looked especially strange among the sleek tuxedos and glittering dresses of the other guests.

"The invitation said 'Black Tie Optional'," drawled Hattori, waving it in the would-be teen's face. Conan snatched it from his hand.

"I don't think they meant _that_optional," he grumbled. Hattori shrugged.

"Heiji!"

Both detectives turned to see a girl in a green party dress barrelling towards them. Conan felt the inexplicable urge to dive under a table again. He mentally ordered his legs to stay still. If Kazuha was angry with someone, it definitely wouldn't be cute little Conan-kun.

"For god's sake, Heiji! I turn around for one second and you disappear! I - Oh, hello Conan! It's good to see you again." Toyoma Kazuha smiled brightly down at Conan, as he thanked and cursed whatever deity that had decided to shrink him. "You haven't seen Ran-chan, have you?"

Mentally, Conan sighed and slipped into his little kid persona. He nodded excitedly.

"Yeah!" he chirped. "Ran-neesan was trying to drag Oji-san away from the bar down there!"

"I - I see," said Toyoma uncertainly. "Um, anyway … let's go, Heiji! And hurry up this time!"

Toyoma quickly disappeared into the crowd and the two boys followed at a more sedate pace.

"You know, it's kind of creepy how you do that. It's like you've got a split personality or something."

Conan shrugged. "Probably my mom's genes finally showing through. Can't say it hasn't been helpful."

"Yeah, I guess … Hey, isn't that Nee-chan?" Hattori asked, pointing to a swaying couple in the middle of the dance floor. Conan slowed and turned to get a look.

At first glance, the girl did look remarkably like Ran. But details started registering in Conan's brain. Her dress was deep blue while Ran had been wearing a red one. Her hair was noticeably messier than Ran's and it seemed she was shorter too, although he couldn't be sure at that distance. Slowly, Conan shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. Actually, I think that's Inspector Nakamori's daughter, Nakamori Aoko."

"Huh? You mean that guy who chases Kaitou Kid?" Hattori whistled. "Well, she didn't get her looks from her dad, _that__'__s_ for sure. Have you met her before?"

"No, but Inspector Nakamori did say that Ran was the spitting image of her. He was drunk, though, so I wasn't sure how accurate the description was. I guess I got my answer," Conan chuckled.

Then, the duo they were watching twisted around. Conan and Hattori got a good look at Nakamori Aoko's partner.

Both of them turned white.

"There's no way …," Hattori breathed, eyes darting to his friend and back to the dancing pair.

Conan was struck dumb. It wasn't possible. Dancing with the inspector's daughter was … was …

"Shinichi?"

The two detectives stiffened. With muted horror, they turned to see the shocked face of Mouri Ran.

* * *

In the back of her mind, Nakamori Aoko was astounded at the turn her evening had took. She was sure when she left school on Saturday that it would be the most boring and painful night of her young life. The worst part was that she couldn't even get out of going to the Tokyo Annual Policemen's Ball because she had begged her father for invitations, one of which was probably sitting in an incinerator by now.

But it wasn't the absolute torture she thought it would be. Keiko, who had a brother in the police department, had elected to join her and get her mind off _things_. It worked until a cute guy had asked her friend to dance and Keiko went starry eyed. Unable to deny her best friend a good time, Keiko and her admirer left, leaving Aoko alone with _certain_ thoughts.

_Certain_ thoughts about _certain_ events surrounding a _certain_ inconsiderate, selfish, self-absorbed, neglectful _boy_.

"Excuse me."

The polite voice cut into her thoughts about mischievous eyes, infuriating grins, and the recent lack of them, forcing her back into the present. She looked up to see Kaito with a concerned, yet uncomfortable expression on his face.

Mentally, Aoko backtracked.

'_Kaito.__'_

She stared, her mouth parting open in shock.

"Are you alright? I don't mean to be rude but … uh …" As the young man hemmed and hawed, Aoko realized that he couldn't possibly be Kaito. He was never unsure of himself.

"You're crying," he finally blurted out. Startled, Aoko put a hand to her eyes. Sure enough, there were tears there that she hadn't even noticed. She carefully wiped them away and hoped no one else saw.

"Thank you," she said, a sincere smile on her face. The stranger in front of her turned a brilliant red, and Aoko couldn't help but laugh a little. Now that she looked, she could see he really wasn't Kaito. His hair would never consent to lying flat like that. And she was sure that if Kaito had been wearing that dark, tailored suit, he would promptly pronounce himself a dork, strip to his underwear, and declare that a beauty such as his should not be stifled by mortal inventions and conventions such as _clothes_ and _decency_.

He'd done it before. Of course, he had been younger …

Most decidedly, it was the stranger's attitude that was un-Kaito-like. He exuded an aura of sophistication and maturity that Kaito could never seem to develop. He also seemed shy, which was the last word anyone would use to describe Kaito. Aoko wasn't sure if his shyness was normal or if he was just like that around girls.

Hey, it didn't take a genius to see this guy liked her. And Aoko was a smart girl.

"Are you alright now?" the young man asked, after he recovered from his bout of embarrassment. She nodded, even though she still couldn't seem to get her mind off of _Kaito_.

"My name is Nakamori Aoko." She lifted up her hand and the stranger looked taken aback.

"I-I'm Kudo Shinichi," he muttered, shaking her hand briefly. He looked at her for a few seconds before bursting out, "Would you like to dance?"

Aoko eyebrows raised in surprise and Kudo-san immediately looked like he regretted it.

"Um … uh …" He started to inch backwards. "I should probably - "

"Okay."

He stopped. "Huh?"

"I'll dance with you," said Aoko calmly. Anything had to be better than wallowing in her misery and boredom, and he seemed like a nice guy.

"A-alright then. Let's go." He looked simultaneously pleased and dismayed. He grabbed onto her arm and pulled her into the middle of the crowd. He nervously positioned one hand on her hip and grasped her hand in the other, while she put her remaining hand on his shoulder. Together, they began to waltz gracefully across the floor, weaving with the music between the other couples.

And Aoko began to understand that she was enjoying her evening infinitely more than she hoped she would.

* * *

This could quite possibly be the _funniest_ trick he would ever do.

And now, not only could that trick be ruined, his identity was at risk. All because he had done what was possibly the _dumbest_ thing a person in his position could do.

For Kuroba Kaito, it all started after he had finished putting everything in place. He spent a good portion of the ball dressed as a waitress and serving drinks. On every guest he came across, he slipped certain items into pockets and handbags. He made sure to stay clear of anyone in the little detective's group and anyone else he knew. Kaito had already put their things - along with others too big for him to carry inconspicuously - under tables with ice sculptures on them, as they had no chairs around them.

He was all set for the next stage of his plan. He slinked into the men's washroom (thankfully empty) and changed his disguise. Kaito stuffed his uniform and fake breasts into a bag he had prepared and stepped out of the washroom stall he was using. If anyone had walked in at that moment, they would have seen an awfully messy-looking Kudo Shinichi dumping something out the window.

It took a few more minutes and copious amounts of hair gel for Kaito to be satisfied with how he looked. Internally, he winced as his shoes (elevated - Kudo was normally two inches taller than him) pinched his toes and groaned at the detective's fashion sense.

'_Man, can__'__t that guy ever lighten up? Even his clothes scream __"__Look at me! I__'__m a such a slick detective! Watch in amazement as I solve the mystery of __'__What crawled up my ass and died?__'"_

Childishly, Kaito blew a raspberry at his reflection and walked out, making sure to put on his most conceited look. The little detective was at the bar with Inspector Nakamori and the Sleeping Kogoro when he last checked. Kaito grinned wickedly to himself. The moment he saw 'Kudo Shinichi', the little detective would chase after him (which was _always _fun), allowing Kaito to put the next phase of his plan into action.

Just when he was going to let the little detective catch a glimpse of him, he saw her.

Aoko.

He stopped dead.

She was in a royal blue dress, one that gave her the figure he was always complaining - loudly - she never had. Her hair was hanging down her back in its normal style, but for the clip that kept back one side of it from her face. He noticed her dainty black heels locked together, her white gloved hands clenched at her sides, and her thinning lips.

And Aoko was just standing there, alone, looking down, tears silently streaming down her face.

All the guilt from yesterday welled up. He had been super busy preparing for his trick and when he had to refuse Aoko's invitation to the ball (After all, he couldn't go as Kuroba Kaito _and_Kaitou Kid), she ran out on him. Once he realized that she was _crying_, he followed her. He lost her pretty quickly and was left panting by some garbage cans in an alley. That's when he had noticed the invitation she had offered him was crumpled up and thrown on top of the trash. He had picked it up and gently smoothed out the wrinkles before tucking it into his school bag and making his way to certain locations to run certain errands and to complete certain tasks.

Wherever Aoko went then, she had been upset and obviously did not want to speak to him. All Kaito could do was continue preparing for his trick until she showed she was ready to talk.

But, now … now, she was in front of him. Now, she looked she needed someone to help her, more than ever. Someone to listen to her, to dry her tears, to comfort her …

Even if it was a complete stranger.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, his feet moved him to where Aoko was and his mouth was already open.

"Excuse me."

Aoko looked up, staring at him with huge, watery eyes.

Every instinct he developed after becoming Kaitou Kid screamed at him to turn, to run, to never look back, because he was going to _get himself caught_!

But Kaito couldn't turn his back on Aoko.

"Are you alright? I don't mean to be rude but … uh …" He tried to think of a nicer way to put it, but could only lamely say, "You're crying."

Aoko rubbed the tears away once she saw they were there (how could she not notice she was _crying_?) and Kaito watched, entranced. His macho Aoko could actually be … delicate.

"Thank you," she said. And she smiled.

That smile dazzled him unlike any other. He didn't realize he was blushing until he heard Aoko giggle.

He shook it off. What was wrong with him? It was just Aoko, after all.

Right. _Just_Aoko. Exactly like how Kaitou Kid was _just_a thief. Or Edogawa Conan was _just_ a kid.

Biggest understatement of the _decade_.

"Are you alright now?" he asked, trying to get rid of his unwanted line of thought. When she nodded, he gave a little sigh of relief.

"My name is Nakamori Aoko," said Aoko, holding out her hand to shake.

Crap, crap, crap. Who was he pretending to be again? Between worrying about Aoko, worrying about being recognized, and worrying about particular thoughts he _really_ wished he didn't have, he had forgotten his false identity.

Oh, wait. He was pretending to be that dick, Kudo.

"I-I'm Kudo Shinichi," Kaito stuttered, barely remembering to change his voice to the right pitch.

'_Aoko __…__ I wonder if she__'__d dance with me __…__,__'_ he thought suddenly. Mentally, he snorted. Of course she wouldn't. If he was his regular self, she would think he was tricking him somehow. If he was Kid, she would probably spit on him or something. If he was a random stranger (like now, for instance), she would probably say no, only because she didn't know him. Still, his traitorous mouth opened.

"Would you like to dance?"

'_WHY THE HELL DID I SAY THAT OUT LOUD?!__'_

Aoko was silent.

"Um … uh …" He needed to retreat. Now. "I should probably - "

"Okay."

He froze. "Huh?"

"I'll dance with you," she said, as placid as glass.

His heart gave a very painful thump.

'_No! Stop that! You aren't allowed to do that!'_

"A-alright then. Let's go." Kaito lead her onto the dance floor, thinking as quickly as possible. He was quite happy to be dancing with Aoko (_'No, no, I'm not. I'm scared she'll step on my feet!'_), but he was now seriously behind schedule. He made sure to position both of them in the very centre of the room and hoped that the little detective would spot him. This way, he could kill two birds with one stone.

His hands wobbled a little when he realized he had to _hold_Aoko to dance with her. And she noticed, if that encouraging smile of hers was any indication.

Really, what _was_wrong with him? Kaito tried to think it over as they began to dance. Maybe it was the disguise. Aoko had no idea who Kudo was, so he could act whatever way he wanted and she would think it was normal for Kudo. Well, he could act whatever way but the way Kaito acted around her. And because he didn't _have_to be Kudo and he couldn't be the Kaito he showed everyday, he was acting like the Kaito he _didn't_ show everyday.

He was showing his true feelings.

'_No, I don't have any true feelings. I feel nothing special for Aoko. At all. She's just a friend who's rude, nosy, proud, smart, generous, beautiful …'_

Okay, this wasn't helping him delude himself.

"You seem troubled," he said, trying to forget his thoughts. He might as well figure out why Aoko was crying in the first place.

She stiffened, then nodded slightly. "It's … a friend."

"Really?" asked Kaito, feigning aloofness. He wondered if this was going to be about him.

Aoko was quiet for a beat before the words stumbled out of her.

"He's been busy a lot recently," she started. "I haven't been able to talk to him properly for over a month. Every time I ask him to go somewhere after school, he keeps saying he has to go to his job."

Oh. So it _was_ about him.

"I guess I've been feeling lonely. Kaito's my best friend and it's really weird not hanging out with him all the time. Yesterday, I asked him to come here with me, but he said he was busy. I kind of snapped and ran away. I even threw away the invitation I was going to give him. Even now, I feel sad. I just … I really … I really miss him." Aoko looked like she was going to cry again and Kaito hurriedly tried to reassure her.

"He probably didn't realized how you were feeling. I'm sure when he figures it out, he'll do something really stupid and big to apologize," he told her. Every word was true. He had no idea that Aoko was hurting this much and he'd do anything to get her back to her normal, mop-happy self.

Aoko snorted. "No offence, but you don't even know Kaito. How do you know he'd do something like that?"

The words came much too easily out of his mouth.

"Because that's what a man does for the woman he loves."

Aoko gaped at him. Kaito realized what a monstrous, ugly mess he had just gotten himself into. He dreaded her next words.

"What -"

"Shinichi!"

Both of them turned to see a girl pushing her way desperately through the dancers. Recognizing it was Mouri-san and knowing he was now officially spotted, Kaito smoothed his features into the confident expression Kaitou Kid would normally wear.

It was show time.

* * *

"Shinichi!"

_Damn_, he didn't know she could run that fast.

But there was no way in hell he was letting her get away.

Conan pumped his legs as hard he could, somehow outstripping Hattori. His heart beat in his ears as he tried to catch a glimpse of that red dress in the crowd.

Then she saw her standing in front of his double, who had stopped dancing with the inspector's daughter. Fear coursed through him.

That guy could be anyone. Including _Vermouth_.

He ran faster.

Conan was by Ran's side the moment her first words tumbled out of her mouth.

"Shinichi, w-_what_ are you _doing_ here? I've been so … so _worried_, I - Conan-kun, stop pulling on my hand!"

Her sharp tone did nothing to dissuade the death he had on her wrist. He had to pull her _away_, away from the ghost of his old self and whatever dangers he brought. If it even _was_ a man.

"So good to see you again, Mouri-san," said the doppelganger, his voice a perfect match to Conan's old one. He gave a friendly bow. "I do apologize for my necessary, but rude behaviour during our last meeting. I hope you did not catch a cold."

This didn't make any sense. Conan frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. This fake-him was either doing a terrible job at copying him (he had never in his life referred to Ran or her father as Mouri-san), or there was something he was missing -

An image popped in his head. Ran, passed out in a lifeboat, an exact replica of her clothes clutched in his hands.

Other clues fell into place. A Shinichi disguise. Able to imitate his voice. Perfect manners.

_Kaitou Kid_.

"What's wrong with you, Shinichi?" Ran asked, another level of worry added to her tone. She tried to step closer, but was stopped by Conan's outstretched arm. "Conan-kun …?"

Finally, Hattori reached them, followed closely by Toyoma.

"Who the fuck are you?" he demanded the moment he was in ear-shot.

Not-Shinichi put a hand over his heart, an overly-dramatic gesture. "Oh, you wound me, Hattori-kun. Don't you recognize an old friend?"

"_Bullshit_," Hattori growled out. "I know for a fact that Kudo is working on a case in Hokkaido. So, I'll say it again, _who the fuck are you_?"

"You haven't figured it out?" The double seemed a little surprised, eyes flickering from the teen's down to Conan's affronted face. "But, it seems the little detective has."

If anything, Conan's face grew even more outraged.

"Tell me, Tantei-kun," Kid continued, reaching into _his_suit and pulling out a small remote. There was a single, red button built into it, just begging to be pushed. Suddenly, a maniacal grin stretched across his face that didn't fit with Shinichi's appearance and his voice lightened, returning to the smooth tones of Kaitou Kid. "Can you deduce what this is?"

Conan's eyes widened and he looked up, realizing something very important.

Kid was directly under a chandelier.

Conan lunged forward, desperately trying to catch him, grab him, _anything_ -

But Kid was fast - too fast - and with one short movement, the button was pressed.

And the lights went out.


End file.
